


Velvet and Gold

by lunaemoth



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Height Differences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:12:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaemoth/pseuds/lunaemoth
Summary: For adragon age kink meme prompt.Varric learns there are many ways to love. Tenderness and friendship make a good lovestory.





	Velvet and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I had published this on the kink meme ages ago. I had left it in my drafts, and I found it again while cleaning up. I decided to publish it after some edits. It's not much, but I hope you'll enjoy the fluff.
> 
>  
> 
> NB: I'm French, english isn't my first language and this isn't betaed so you can expect some mistakes. If anything bother you, please send me a nice comment with the correction.
> 
> You can find me on ashkaarishok.tumblr.com

They were staying at an Inquisition’s outpost  for the night. The weather was good, not too cold or rainy, giving them the opportunity to spend a pleasant evening around the campfire. Varric was sharing tales with the scouts, but he was often distracted by the Inquisitor when he wasn’t talking. She was sitting on his right, knitting peacefully. He knew from experience that, although she wasn’t looking away from her work, she was aware of everything going on around her.

The Iron Bull came back from helping cut firewood and sat down on Evelyn’s other side. “Who’s that one for, Boss?”

“Varric needs new socks.”

The dwarf glanced at the red and gold yarn in realization. “How the hell do you do that? You always know what everyone need and you know their measurements. How?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She glanced at him with a mischievous grin. “I go through your bag and check your clothes.”

“You’re kidding right?”

She chuckled.

He groaned. “All things considered, I don’t want to know. Just keep your secrets.”

“How wise of you, Master Tethras,” she teased him.

“I’m still considering if I should include the Inquisitor’s hobby in that future book, in which case it definitely needs a dose of mystery.”

“Knitting isn’t good enough for you?”

“Knitting fits Evelyn Trevelyan perfectly. The Inquisitor? Not sure about that.”

“You’re the writer, Varric. I trust your instinct.” She meant it.

He stared at her firelit profile. It was fascinating how she did the difference between herself and her title, how she was unbothered by the idea that her story would be inevitably interpreted and changed as people relate it.

Hawke had much more difficulty to accept it. Maybe this could be explained by the age difference? Evelyn was a confident and self-aware thirty-eight years old woman who had taught apprentices in the circle of Ostwick for years and was familiar with rumors and gossip, as well as twists of fate. She had learned to focus on herself and what she could control. It was… inspiring.

“Varric.”

“Mh?”

“You’re staring.”

“What can I say, you’re mesmerizing.”

She smiled softly but didn’t look away from her knitting needles. “Bianca will be jealous.”

He froze. For the first time in his life, this name ambiguity bothered him. Evelyn had just used it against him. Did she mean the crossbow, the dwarf or both? His guess was on both, with the kind of double meaning he liked to use as a private joke. Was she doing it to tease him or to fish for his feelings? And why was he asking himself this when anytime before he would have replied without missing a beat? Yeah, he knew the answer for that one. “It has been ages since Bianca cared.”

She paused and glanced at him from the corner of her green eyes.

Yes, they both knew what they were doing.

She went back to her work with a slight uplift of her lips. “You know my thoughts on the matter.”

Yes, he did. Evelyn had been perfectly diplomat with Bianca (like she always was), but she had told him after they left Valammar that he deserved better. If the meeting with Bianca had gone any other way, he would have brushed it off. That day, he had stayed quiet and brooded a little (but not enough to compete with Fenris... hopefully).

 

Later that night, when he came back from relieving himself before going to sleep, Evelyn stopped him at the outskirts of the camp and leaned down to say quietly: “I’d like to avoid any misunderstandings, Varric. Are you… I mean…” She tugged on her long brown hair. “Maker, this was easier in my head,” she grumbled.

Varric had to stifle his laughter, but that was too damn cute. He caught her hand and kissed the back of it. “When we’re back in Skyhold, what would you say to a private dinner in your rooms?”

Her smile was dazzling. “I’d love nothing more.”

“You got it.” He squeezed her hand gently; although it was bigger than his own she had delicate fingers that he could easily crush. “Have a good night, Velvet.” He left, smirking when she repeated her new nickname thoughtfully.

 

oOo

 

“Sorry for the lateness,” Varric said as he climbed the stairs leading to the Inquisitor’s massive rooms. “I made the mistake to ask Dorian for advice on wine...” He shut up when he reached the top of the stairs and caught sight of Evelyn. She had put aside her usual practical clothes, favoring a green and gold dress, simple but flattering. “Damn, you look good, Velvet. Is that for me?”

“I was looking for a good excuse to try Vivienne’s gift. I thought you’d do,” she replied with a playful smile.

Varric put the wine bottle on the table covered by their dinner while staring appreciatively at Evelyn’s generous curves. “Is that supposed to be an incentive to keep my hands away from you? Because I know what will happen to me if I stain something of the Iron Lady.”

“I’m sure you can find a way to put your _clean_ hands wherever you want without upsetting the Imperial Enchanter, Varric. You’re a man of many resources.”

“That, I am,” he agreed, right before hitting the back of her knees, making her fall and allowing him to catch her in a bridal carry. In his arms, she was at the perfect height for him to kiss the corner of her lips.

After a surprised squeak, she clung to his shoulders and laughed when she understood his intent. She gave him a kiss on the lips. “Idiot,” she said fondly. “Come on, let’s eat, before it gets cold.”

 

Talking with her was easy. They were very good friends by now. They agreed on most subjects, were able to talk peacefully about the rest and accepted each other’s opinions. There was none of the drama he had gotten used to with Bianca. He thought he might miss it, that kind of double-edged passion… He was waiting for the realization that this friendly relationship wouldn’t be enough for him. It never came.

Their bond was different but no less important. It was in the way they brushed against each other, that they held hands with just a simple touch and no self-consciousness, smiling and laughing just because of a slight change of expression they could interpret without hesitation.

It was easy in a world where everything else was a complex mess. He hadn’t realized how much he needed that.

They were finishing dessert when Evelyn stood up with a sigh. “Maker, I love the quiet and space of this place, but it’s always so cold here. It’s a struggle to get out of bed in the morning.” She went to fetch a big knitted blanket that she used like a shawl, covering her lovely cleavage. “Aren’t you cold, Varric?” She asked when she came back, leaning down slightly over him. Her long hair brushed his cheek, her floral scent surrounding him.

“If I say yes, will I get a lap full of warm soft skin?”

She chuckled and stroked his jaw tenderly. “For that, we should move in front of the fireplace, it would be cozier.”

 

Cuddling demanded some adjustment due to the height difference but, considering that their failed attempts always ended up in laughter, neither of them really minded. They fought for control of the blanket and rolled on the carpet until Evelyn ended up stretched out over him. She propped her chin up on her hands and looked down at him with a mischievous smile. “That’s not uncomfortable.”

“I’ve been in worse positions,” he admitted, stroking the back of her thighs before cupping her buttocks and pulling her closer for a kiss, their first proper one, tentative and unhurried.

“Varric,” she murmured against his lips.

He hummed, stroking her hips with his thumbs. “Yes, Velvet?”

“Your chest hair is really soft,” she noted, patting his chest gently.

He laughed, which shook her in turn and made her smile. “Yeah? Not as soft as your blanket.”

“That’s because I only use the best wool there is. I’m elitist that way.”

“Yeah? Do you think I can meet your criteria?”

“You will do.” She slowly leaned closer, offering her full lips.

“How nice…” He gave her the kiss she was begging for before reversing their positions with a sudden push. “Short but strong,” he reminded her with a smirk when she gaped at him in surprise.

She chuckled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “My dashing dwarf,” she whispered, kissing his cheek, “you dazzle me.”

“Dazzle, really? I think the word you were looking for was ‘mesmerize’.”

As she always did when he teased her with his literary passion, she burst into laughter (ah! See that, Hawke? He was hilarious!). He loved her laugh. He loved the taste of her lips even more.

She made a lovely little gasp when he hitched up her skirt to stroke her bare thigh. That was a delightful sound. Wondering if he could get more of it, he went under the thick velvet to explore a little more those tempting unknown lands… It had been a long time since he had sailed on those seas, but…

“Oh, Varric!”

… yep, he still got it.


End file.
